


Second Chances

by rushii



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Hellucard is only breifly mentioned in a later chapter lol, Hurt/Comfort, I love my trans babys, Lots of Angst, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Polyship Galore, Poor Everyone, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trans Jon (Eddsworld), Trans Jon is my favorite headcannon alright, Trans Matt (Eddsworld), aaanndd, dont worry it gets happy i swear, everyones not traumatised if u squint, future tags tba, im a sucker for a happy ending, im also a sucker for POLYAMORY, its sad but dont worry, mark doesnt deserve this angst, neither does anyone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-10-14 03:46:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10528290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rushii/pseuds/rushii
Summary: EDIT: This story is now discontinued! I will no longer be updating it!He's lost count of how many times he's seen the event happen. Every time he blinks, every time he's alone in the quiet, every time he does anything, he sees it happen, sees him, sees all the destruction and death and blood and pure terror from everyone around him. He's forgotten what really happened with how many times his brain convinces him sometime else happened, something worst. He's forgotten who's alive, if anyone really is; forgotten what the difference is between his nightmares and reality. He really just wants to forget anything even happened.





	1. It All Comes Back Around

He's here again.

In this nightmare, the one he just can't outrun. The one he just wants to forget ever happened, wishes could have never happened or existed. It was real.

He sees it again, the giant robot rise, sees Edd yell about how he thought the user was their friend, sees the fear in Matt's eyes as Tom tries to stop the one controlling the robot. He sees the missile get fired again, he sees Jon--just a bit too close to the fence, just a _tiny bit_ too close--sees Eduardo yell out for everyone to _run_. He can't move though, and he sees it all again, sees it all in slow motion. When it finally hits the ground, there's dust everywhere, and he looses sight of everyone. He can't see Edd, Matt, or Tom. He lost Jon and Eduardo again; upon seeing only dust and dirt everywhere, he panics.

"Eduardo! Jon! Where are you!?" He calls out, rushing forward, not knowing where he's going but fear kept his legs moving. He feels the cloud of dust settle in his blonde hair, and he hates it, hates how dirty he feels for not being near the blast like everyone else. When the dust finally settles, he wishes it hadn't.

He sees him, sees Jon. He sees the torn up blue shirt, sees the brown hair and pale skin, sees all the blood and bone. Eduardo wasn't there holding him like he remembered, where was Eduardo? The thought that crept into his mind only made his fear worsen. He looked around wildly, trying to find his friend coughing from the dust, running toward Jon, towards Edd, towards _him_. He never saw him do any of those things, just saw him laying there near Matt's mangled body. He saw the green shirt Eduardo usually wears, sees the tan skin, sees the familiar blue eyes--wait, there was no look of fear or anger or acceptance in his eyes, no--no no no no, he was emotionless, his eyes were nothing but lifeless. His body was stained red with blood, and he swore he saw his skull poking out from a large gash from his head. The blonde haired man felt bile rise in his throat, and he couldn't stop himself from vomiting on the dirt. He felt tears drop off his face, but he didn't feel sad; he felt horrified and sick to his stomach.

After a few moments of standing on shaky legs, unable to take his eyes of his friends' torn and stained bodies, he finally managed to tear his gaze away to find others. He needed help, needed to get everyone help, get himself help. He looked over to Matt's body again: his overcoat completely torn off his body and throw a few feet away, and his purple hoodie was almost unrecognizable with all the blood stained and the burned spots from the explosion. Upon closer examination, all the single living man could find that showed it was even Matt was his square chin and dark green eyes, all focus lost from them. Everything else was torn up and broken; he swore he saw organs pooled at what he could only imagine was Matt's hips.

A bit farther away from the ginger was a broken mess of Tom, and he had the sudden realization that he wasn't dead when he saw him. Hope flared in his chest that maybe someone could be alive, could understand what had happened here, and his feet had carried him over to the scarcely breathing neighbor before he could even realize he did. He knelt down next to Tom, and the hope in his chest had changed back to the terror and tight, restricting feeling again.

"Tom? H-hey, it's Mark, uh, can you talk?" The blonde haired man--Mark--asked. He really didn't know what to say, what to feel. His neighbors..one was dead, the other had a still unknown fate, and the last one was laying in a pool of his own blood, broken bones, and desperation to save his friends. Tom shakily drew a breathe before glancing up at the other man.

"M..Mark..?" There was a hint of longing and forgiveness in his tone that was almost eerie to Mark; it was almost as if he'd given up before he even had the chance to continue, and that made him all the more fearful for the neighbor. Even though he wasn't exactly friends with Tom, seeing him like this, laying in a broken heap, tears streaming down his face, giving up all hope and slowly dying...it was terrible. Mark didn't think he could shake any harder then he was currently.

After a few breaths, Mark finally managed to get out a coherent sentence, "Just stay alive, alright? Help's coming, we- we're gonna be fine, we can live!..someone must have called for help, it's- everything's going to be fine..?" His promise of survival and comfort fell upon deaf ears; Mark didn't even believe the statement himself, and he doubted Tom believed it. It almost became a question at the end, for everyone knew it would never truly be fine again with so many others dead.

Tom had glanced around for a second, seemly going with what Mark said, regardless if he personally believed he would live or not. "Where's..where's the others..? Are they o-okay?" Tom asked when he couldn't spot his friends, couldn't see Eduardo or Jon's broken bodies. Mark almost wanted to lie, to say he saw them run, that they were okay, if only it meant Tom might grow the effort of living again. He couldn't bring himself to do it though, couldn't bear anymore lies or finding out something was wrong. He didn't like heartbreak either, but he didn't have any good options of what to answer, so he went with what he would have wanted to hear: the truth.

"A-actually..Eduardo, Jon, and Matt..they.." he suddenly found the words to be caught in his throat, and his chest tighten as he acknowledged his friends' fate. He guessed that Tom knew what he meant regardless, for the look on his face changed from confusion to disbelief to grief-stricken in only a few seconds.

"You mean.." he paused, desperate to hear that it was some kind of cruel joke, that Matt would jump out from behind the rubble with just a few cuts and bruises, saying it was just a joke. Mark could feel how desperate and heartbroken Tom was, and he himself wished it just a terrible joke, too. "They're _dead..?"_ Tom finished after a few seconds. Mark felt the tears stream down his face once again, and slowly nodded, almost lacking the energy to do so.

He sees Tom take a sudden and painful breath, and his hands instinctively shot over to hold onto him, but it only seemed to cause Tom more pain and discomfort. Upon realization, he pulled them away as fast as he laid them out. The brown haired man started coughing, coughing up blood, and Mark felt the fear grow even stronger as he found Tom's fate was out of his control now. He looked around quickly, hoping for someone else, hoping for an ambulance, wishing for help. He didn't see anything or anyone besides the rubble of destroyed houses and deceased neighbors around him.

"Hey, is anyone out there!? Hello!? Help, please!" Mark cried out, hoping for someone to hear his pleads, hoping for Tom to get taken to a hospital and get the help he needs, for him to live. He knew that Tom wouldn't survive, however, as he watched his breathing slow down quickly, watched him become lifeless like the others, and when he saw the black-eyed man draw his last breath and go still, he couldn't stop himself from wrapping his arms around the younger male and holding him close to his chest. There was warmth still in Tom, and Mark could almost convince himself that he wasn't dead, that Eduardo and Jon weren't dead, that it wasn't somehow all his fault. He had ran, instead of making sure everyone else was okay like the others, he had just ran as fast as possible away, without any concern for the other people there. He felt tears stream down his face at a steady pace now, and a sob racked through his body as he held onto the one person who he could bare to touch.

"No..no no no no.." Mark heard a voice say from a little ways off, and he looked over to the person. He knew that accent, knew that person, he'd never forget him. Mark slowly set Tom back down on the ground, ignoring how his heart ached at seeing how much of fight his neighbor had put up, only to die alongside all his friends and enemies. He turned his head slowly towards the voice, and he saw that the other living man was not injured in the slightest. He was crouched above a piece of clothing that Mark guessed was either a hoodie or jacket; it was burnt almost to a crisp, destroyed beyond what Mark could recognize. It lied in a pool of blood, but no body was to be found nearby.

Mark could feel the guilt and grief coming from waves from the other man, and he almost felt pity for him, before remembering this was the man that caused the destruction of everything around him.

The other man--he had a bandage on his face, despite not being injured, and a red hoodie that didn't seem to reek of blood; Mark assumed it wasn't discolored. The blonde haired male thought he was in the robot, the giant one that appeared from Edd's house, yet he wasn't now. He was grieving over...Edd? Tom? Matt? All three? Mark couldn't tell, he just knew the huge waves of sadness and regret coming from the man was something he didn't expect from the murderer. He did start all of this suffering, after all, why would he regret it? He built a giant robot to destroy his best friends, destroy his rivals, destroy the world. Feeling regret as soon as it started was not something to be expected from the maniac.

"..Edd..no, no, I-I didn't mean for this to happen, I'm sorry, I'm _so_ fucking sorry, I didn't mean it I swear, I thought-" the other man had a Norwegian accent, and had cut himself off when a sob escaped his lips. Mark watched as he held the destroyed clothing close to his chest, crying into it; he wondered is the other was trying to get Edd's _ghost_ to forgive him for killing him and his friends, for attempting to take over the world. Mark felt a burning hatred at the thought, he didn't _deserve_ to be forgiven for what he's done. He killed Jon and Eduardo, killed Matt and Tom. He ruined everything, made Mark loose the will to live after discovering everyone else he's cared for, who cared for him back, were taken one after another in only a few seconds.

A loud stomping noise forced Mark to look away from the Norwegian man. He noticed from out of the corner of his eye that the other had glanced over to the noise as well, with a look full of fear. He could only watch as the thing that started this was brought to life, despite not having anyone controlling it. The robot. It was moving, on it's own, and the fact made his mind come to a reeling stop.

It's there. Moving.

**_Alive._ **

It's alive, it's going to kill him like it killed Eduardo and Jon, it's going to destroy everything, it's going to kill him it's going to kill him it's _going to-_

Mark was hyperventilating by the time he heard the scream, adverted his eyes over in time to see the previously grieving man cowering for a split second, screaming in absolute horror before the robot's foot came down on top of him and--Mark heard the scream suddenly stop, heard the crunching of bone, saw the blood burst from underneath the red android, saw the world around become dark as if reminding him of the doom about to follow, about how he was ruined. He couldn't calm down, couldn't stop his way too fast breathing, couldn't stop himself from crying and sobbing hysterically as he saw the thing turn towards him.

Everything went in slow motion again, and he lacked the energy and will to get up and run, didn't think it was worth it with what would happen regardless of whether he escaped or not. Death seemed like the best option at the moment. It still scared him though, as he saw the arm switch to one with a hole that was pitch black--impossible to peer into--and aim towards him. It still terrified him as he saw the missile fire and be hurtled through the air towards him.

Saw it get closer..

_**And closer..** _

And then it was _too damn close_ and he felt the anxiety and horror and pain and sadness engulf him-

And then it hit only a few feet from him _and-_

 

Mark suddenly jolted forward with a loud scream that hurt his throat more than he expected it to. He still felt the fear, and was petrified as he remembered in vivid detail what he had just witnessed. He was shaking horribly, and sobbed as he recalled the limp bodies of his friends on the ground, started breathing quickly again as he saw once again the missile firing towards him--how was he not dead?

The thought made him glance around widely, where was he? This place was not familiar in the slightest. It wasn't his old home, wasn't some family members house, wasn't Edd's old house, definitely wasn't a hospital. He couldn't tell what the room looked like exactly; it was dark, and his eyes were blurry with tears. He was about to accept that he was going to die, couldn't breath properly, that the robot was coming back, that the red guy was going to come back, when he saw a door from the other side of the room open and bright light filled the room he was in.

"Mark? Ya' okay? I heard screaming, Edd said to check on ya'.." A familiar voice had spoken. That voice, Mark knew it, and hearing it made his heart ache with eagerness to see the person it belonged to more than he'd ever admit. It made him realize that everything he'd just seen, was only a nightmare, that it never happened, that Jon and everyone else was alive and everything was fine and okay and that was great!

Then he wrapped his head around _'Edd said to check on you'_ and realized he was at Edd's new apartment, that it did actually happen, that Jon was at the hospital probably dead. That Matt could be 6 feet under the ground, that he might never hear from Tom again, that the person with the bandaged face was still out there somewhere, might come back. The thoughts made him terrified again, and he couldn't respond to the voice he associated with a friend.

"Mark? Hey, what happened?" The voice came again, and after not getting a response more than a quiet sob from Mark, entered the room and closed the door behind him. After Mark saw him get a bit closer, he could finally see the person, and seeing him almost made him cry more from happiness. The familiar green polo, the dark blue eyes shining with worry.

Mark barely registered the question, just focused on the sound and the eyes he knew all too well. He couldn't move, not that he was trying that hard to, and had to force himself to stop staring and think for a second. He didn't know how to answer the question, didn't know what happened, he could vividly remember the death and blood, the fear and grief, almost as if he carried everyone's emotions on his shoulders. Trying to form conherent words only made his heart ache more, and he suddenly hated every damn thing and person in this existence besides Eduardo.

Eduardo was the only one who hasn't fucked up his life; intentionally or not.

The only one who's here now.

The thought only made him hug himself and sob harder. Within seconds, the other was at his side, distressed with the array of emotions coming from Mark.

"H-hey, um, are you hurt?"

Silence.

"Did- uh, did you see someone or something? Out the window?"

Sobbing, no answer.

"Can you talk?"

There was a brief pause, before Mark shook his head. His throat hurt too much to try, and even if it didn't, he wasn't sure he could explain anyways. He was too scared by the events to explain anything useful.

Eduardo's mind was going a thousand miles a second, confused on what to do; Mark knew that the other was never that good at comforting anyone. Mark could never get a guess as to why, something about Eduardo was strange, he could never be kind to anyone, never accepted help, always tried to appear emotionless and tough. Mark didn't know why he did it, he never asked, no one did. Eduardo never told.

"Um. Okay- did something scare you?" He started talking again, seemingly assuming Mark would nod his head to answer. Mark was thankful he decided to keep talking, he wanted to hear his voice more than anything else at the moment. He nodded--it was a dream, he knew it wasn't entirely real--that didn't stop him from being mortified by it.

The other male didn't know what to do anymore, Mark could tell. He didn't blame him, if Mark had found the other in this scenario, he'd be confused and helpless as well. Jon was the only one that ever really knew what to do during something like this.

 _Jon_.

 _Jonjonjonjon where's J o n why isn't he here why didn't he come in why's Eduardo here and not JON **whereishewhereisJon**_ -

"Mark!" The blonde barely heard Eduardo, but he definitely felt his hands on his arms, just below his shoulder, and could almost feel the panic coming from the other, panic consuming them both.

Mark saw blackness blurr the edge of his vision, and he was suddenly plunged back to his nightmare. The terrible nightmare that took Jon from them, that haunted his every thought. He hated it. He hated Edd. He hated that man who used the robot. He hated himself.

He felt hate and fear and grief. He also felt angry and disgusted and.. _happy_. Happy that excuse for a human who killed Jon was dead as well. He has to be dead, right? The robot exploded. You can't survive that, no living creature could, right? He didn't know and that scared him.

Then again, everything scares him now.

He was brought back the present when Eduardo's voice finally got to Mark. It sounded slightly far away, but he still heard it.

"You're scaring me, Mark! What are you staring at?!" The words were shocked, worried. Afraid. It comforted Mark somehow, knowing he wasn't the only one scared.

"..I'm sorry.." was all he managed to say. The were so many other words he wanted to say, wanted to get out, wanted to explain. However, he was afraid if he started talking, he wouldn't stop.

It was all he needed to say.

Eduardo stared at him for a few seconds before wrapping his arms around Mark in a tight embrace. The other flinched slightly, but within a few seconds leaned into the touch; he put his arms around the other as well.

The two sat there for some time, simply sitting in each other's arms. Mark felt--for the first time a long while--safe. He could almost convince himself Jon was there, too. The thought made him almost happy. Tiredness tugged on him, and within a couple more moments, Mark fell asleep in Eduardo's arms.

He could forget everything until the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rlly wanted to put "it spooped him too much to talk" towards the end there but I would've ruined the story. Still was funny to me so I thought I'd tell u here  
> I'm a terrible person lmao


	2. It Isn't Fair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote like a quarter way through of this and then scrapped it over multiple times bc I hated it 
> 
> this took so long bc it just doesn't seem v good to me?? idk maybe ya'll enjoy it more
> 
> so whatever lol enjoy this trainwreck
> 
> take a shot everytime I describe Eduardo's eyes in a positive pretty blue way (like 'gorgous', 'brilliant', 'piercing', ect) or when I put 'it wasn't/isn't fair'
> 
> (Don't actually do his you'll die yall im a bad writer omg)

When Mark woke up, he had a splitting migraine, and groaned frustratedly into his pillow, which was faintly damp. He felt oddly cold and fear crept into his mind again, but he pushed it away as soon as it had appeared. He titled his head slightly and opened one eye to lazily scan the area in the bed next to him. No one was there.

Usually two people would be there. Usually a smaller brown haired shape would be squeezed in between him and someone only a few inches shorter than him. Usually there'd be a snoring sleeping body, and tired eyes were peer into him before shaking the tinniest of the lot awake. Those piercing eyes that saw everything Mark saw, that saw everything he felt. Those soft, piercing eyes that knew. Those always familiar blue eyes.

They weren't there.

The tiny one wasn't there

He was alone.

_Alone._

** _A l o n e._ **

Mark screwed his eyes closed and held in his breath, telling himself that they had just decided to wake up a bit earlier than him today. They'd done it atleast once before as a prank, maybe they're just doing it again? Maybe they had finally grown tired of annoying, _depressed--_

He stopped himself before his mind trailed off again into unwelcoming territory. Okay, so here's a mental list: Get out of bed, find Eduardo and Jon, find out if that robot incident was even real or not, then go visit Edd, Matt, and Tom. That's a good list so far, right? Then do daily human stuff, like eat and shower, and maybe find some medicine for this _stupid_ fucking headache.

"We'll just have to see as we go, I guess." The blonde man murmured to himself, slowly pushing the covers on top of him off, and attempting to stand up. As he did, his knees felt weak, and he had to grip the desk..cabinet? He wasn't entirely sure what it was, his head hurt too much and his vision was slightly blurry, and he simply didn't care to pay enough attention to figure it out. Anyways, he grabbed onto it, and was thankfully saved from falling onto the hardwood flooring beneath him. That would have been a painful fall tagged along with an already painful start to a day. Great.

He felt a pain in the arm that was helping support his weight, and glanced over at it. He squinted his eyes to try to make out anything better, and noticed a white wrapping around his arm, from his wrist to his elbow. He identified a few red stained places on the cloth, and assumed he had some sort of injury there. As he tried to remember what had caused it, a sudden, more anxiety-educing thought broke it's way through first: 'this means the robot attack really did happen'. This means that Jon and Eduardo could _actually_ be- what if they're _actually_ \- what if what if _what if--_

His hand gripped his head as tears threatened to spill, which he didn't really try to hold back after a few moments. Then he remembered how he got the injury in the first place, and he was thrown back into the event that caused all these thoughts and reoccurring nightmares.

 

_The three of them had simply been watching some show on the TV when loud stomping noises started coming from outside. At first, Eduardo had told them to ignore it, that it was probably just some weird thing that Tom was doing to try to scare his friends. Jon had mumbled agreement, after a brief hesitation and a look over the couch out a window. Mark had scoffed and tried to ignore the feeling in his gut telling him something was **wrong.**_

_When incoherent shouting had been overheard, the three looked slightly more concerned, and Mark voiced about the butterflies in his stomach telling him that he should be seeing was wrong. Jon looked worried and slightly scared, curling up to Eduardo more, who almost absentmindedly wrapped an arm around him and held him like a mother would with their crying child. Eduardo shook it off again, saying that it was probably nothing. Mark felt an anxious jab in his stomach, and a part of his mind screamed to **just go see.**_

_When they heard Edd's panicked shrieks to 'stop', something in Eduardo seemed to snap, and a look of anxiety, fear, and anger made it's way into his brilliant blue eyes. Jon almost ran to the door, and Mark felt dizzy. Anxiety had formed a knot in his stomach, and when he stood up to follow his roommates, he almost threw up and was fairly sure he would pass out. Thankfully, he didn't, but when he reached the door, he had noticed Eduardo and Jon confusingly look around._

_"What's with all the racket?"_

_"..That's not a 'racket', that's a 'rocket'!"_

**_Jon._ **

**_Jon run._ **

_As the object hurtled towards them, Mark had shoved Jon and Eduardo forward and silently begged them to run. As they did so, the house had blown up. Pieces of brick and wood flew everywhere, and shards of glass flung. A sharp pain in his left arm that felt to how he imaged being burned, a knife being stabbed into the burned around and twisting multiple ways, and then having salt and lemon juices poured into it must of felt like. He yelled out in pain, but another explosion made his call go unheard. He thought he could faintly see Jon near the fence that stood in between their house and Edd's. He thought he heard Eduardo scream for him to get back, his voice shaky and cracking and filled with terror._

_When the dust filled his vision once more, he felt choking hold on him. And then there was a sudden pain in his stomach, and a weight that had settled itself there. His arm laid by his side, and hurt too much to move, and his chest felt constricted and it was_ **_horrible._ ** He could faintly heard Edd from somewhere, and he thought he heard some sort of laughter, but his vision was fading and soon he felt himself fall unconscious.

_He didn't know how long he was out. When he managed to open his eyes again, he was still lying on the ground, but the rock had been dislodged to sit a few feet away. Beside him lay a large brick, and he wondered if it had hit the rock. Would that have even moved it? He didn't know, and his head buzzed to much to try to figure out exactly that had happened to him. His breathing felt erratic and his vision was blurry, but he stood up and trudged forward, toward where he thought he heard a noise._

_Through the dust that still had yet to settle, Mark saw a familiar shape. He knew who it was, he knew that green shirt by his goddamn heart, and he knew every inch of the body that lay in the shape's hands._

**_He knew Eduardo and Jon._ **

**_He knew them so well._ **

_So why did..why did they have to be taken from him?_

_He didn't know who was alive anymore. He simply didn't know. It hasn't even been a week and he was sure that it felt like he's been having these nightmares for years. They didn't stop. Why didn't they stop?_

_It wasn't fair._

_Nothing in their lives has **ever** been fair. Nothing in his, nothing in Eduardo's, and certainly nothing in Jon's. They didn't deserve it._

_Did Mark deserve it? He didn't know._

_He didn't know and it made him feel so fucking helpless. So hopeless._

_So lost._

_So **alone.**_

_Eduardo let out a loud mournful sob, and Mark was brought out of his thoughts. Eduardo was alive. Edd, Tom, and Matt were alive._

_Jon was dead. Was he dead? Maybe he was alive. Mark felt almost certain he was dead. He felt almost certain nothing would be the same again._

_He was so, so sure._

_Everything began to blur into one another. He heard a voice close by. He felt more pain in his arm. He saw Eduardo's eyes, cloudy with emotion. He was Jon's body. He felt sick, and tired, and unbearably numb inside. So numb it contradicted itself and hurt him instead._

_Everything always hurt when Jon and Eduardo where gone._

_They were the only ones that didn't hurt him._

_Everyone and everything else did._

_It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, it isn't fair._

**_Nothing is._ **

 

It wasn't fair.

Mark suddenly didn't want to go out the room, he didn't want to know what had really come to happen to the people he knew. The people he loved. He was too scared. And so he turned to go back to the bed, to just try to sleep away all his problems, but before he could take a step, the door opened, and Mark flinched away from the creak. Whoever opened the door must have seen the other flinch, because they let out a quiet, almost silent gasp. Mark felt an urge to run and hide, but his legs felt frozen and he couldn't even force himself to move an inch away.

"Mark?"

Eduardo.

It was Eduardo again.

He really was alive. Eduardo was alive. He had to be, Mark's seen him alive and well more than once in a short amount of time, so he had to be perfectly fine, right? Eduardo was okay, Eduardo was okay, and that was great. It's great that he's okay! It's great, it's great, it's great. Why isn't he happy? Eduardo's okay, why isn't he celebrating? Mark couldn't find even an once of his soul that felt a positive emotion. It scared him. It scared him because he didn't care that Eduardo was okay, he wanted Jon to be okay. He wanted himself to be okay. He wanted to be happy again.

When was the last time he was genuinely happy? He couldn't remember. The death and Jon and the robot engrained themselves into his memory and brain, and he couldn't think of anything but those three and how much he cried and had nightmares now.

Mark didn't know if tears where still streaming down his face. His face didn't feel wet, but his eyes were slightly blurry and damp. Eduardo was looking at him with pity written on his face. It made Mark want to scream, and he felt so frustrated at how helpless he was. He used to be slightly anxious, but could still logically get himself and others out of a bad situation. He was smart, and he was patient. Now he didn't know what else to do but silently beg for someone to help.

For Jon to help.

For Eduardo to help.

For all of them to be alive and okay and go back to the way things used to be.

He was starting to doubt anything would ever go back to the way they were.

_Surely it was impossible now?_

Suddenly Mark felt a hand on his shoulder, and flinched back, blinking back his tears—well, what he assumed to be tears. His eyesight shouldn't be this blurry otherwise, right? He should be fine. He wasn't, but he should be.

The blonde man still recognized his close friend regardless of his conflicting and confusing thoughts and emotions, and despite his memories and love in Eduardo, Mark almost couldn't trust him. He felt an urge to run from the man. It made him scared.

Why would he want to run from one of his only friends? Why would he want to run from someone who's done nothing but show kindness and proven to be trustworthy? Why does he feel a rising need to get _away?_

The thoughts make him panic further, and he acted on the one instinct he could think of in that moment, and to be honest, he wasn't really thinking all that much in that moment.

So he ran.

Or tried to run.

And turns out, trying to run from someone when you're emotionally, mentally, and physically exhausted, isn't the best idea out there. His knees buckled from underneath him within the first two steps he took. Luckily he hadn't moved too far from Eduardo, and said person grabbed him by his waist to stop him from falling to the ground. Mark felt so many thoughts and memories stir because of the touch, and it all just made him sadder and more tired.

Why was he so tired again? He had just woke up, right?

Mark heard a distant voice—probably Eduardo asking him something. He couldn't tell. He felt like he was underwater, with blurry vision and all noises being quiet and far away sounding. He felt like he was drowning, like he couldn't breathe and that he was stuck sinking to an endless bottom. Darkness surrounded the corners of his vision, and all his emotions numbed to nothingness.

This was okay to Mark.

Eduardo would be okay without him.

Jon was dead.

It wasn't fair, because nothing ever was, but..

**This is okay.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its only gonna get worst from here yall
> 
> 90% of the time I have no idea what the fuck im talking about in this story cause like?? what is the plot here what the fuck is the plot it's just mark being sad for 906 years that's the story sjkdlsd;jf


End file.
